2007-08-25: DF: Without a Net

Starring:

DFCyprus_icon.gif DFGeorge_icon.gif

Summary: The struggle against anarchy continues.

Dark Future Date: August 25, 2009

Without a Net


Former police building, New York City

It's another one of the temporary offices that Cyprus has set up around New York City. This time, it's in the old NYPD Precinct again. And Cyprus is currently having a conversation with two Homeland Security agents. He shakes his head slowly. "What happened at the parade is simply inexcusable," he states quickly. "What if the President hadn't been kidnapped? You know his captors had to show him the footage. They probably gloated about it over him. Can you understand how much that man had been through? And how much more your sloppiness made him endure?" The agents try to get a word in edgewise, but Cyprus silences them with a glare. "You're lucky you're getting off with a verbal reprimand. If it wasn't for your superiors tying my hands, I'd have both your resignations three days ago. Now, get out there, and do your jobs. Dismissed." And with that, the two agents make their way to the door. There's a glance between them on the way out, though, and a rude gesture while Cyprus isn't watching them.

There's a glance at their backs as well, as George passes by them on his way in. He lets the gesture go without comment; let the agents think they're achieving some sort of moral victory, if that's what will keep them in line. "Speaking of," he says instead, keeping his voice low, "how is he doing now? I've been swamped with loose ends out in the field. And waiting to see which way the Erin situation breaks."

"He's recovering," replies Cyprus simply. He presses his fingers into the bridge of his nose, an old habit from wearing glasses long since replaced with contact lenses. Old habits, though. He shakes his head, and frowns just slightly at the comment of Erin. "Have we had any word on Ms. Halifax yet? Or is she still MIA?"

George sighs, shaking his head. "At last count, yes. With as long as she's been out of contact… there are a few possibilities, none of them good." As he talks, he begins pacing, hands clasped behind his back. "You could say that about the country, too, I suppose. I hate to think we're undoing Lincoln's work— but maybe this way the reconstruction won't take another whole century. Provided that tempers have a chance to cool off instead of heating up even worse."

Cyprus plays it off with a shake of his head. He turns away. "I don't see another solution," he comments simply. "The camps are simply getting too costly. We need to relocate them to the midwest. There, we have space, and arable land. We might not have a solution for the situation in the foreseeable future, now… What were temporary solutions may have to become… indefinite ones." It's rather callous, to be speaking of human lives like that. But this is the arithmetic of power, it would seem. Just when Cyprus became in charge of camp policy, however, is a little strange.

"Hell, some parts of the mid-West, that's about all they've ever had is space. You can tell when you start seeing more cows than you do people." George frowns, leaning back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. "What about some mixing zones? I mean, this isn't like the blood feuds in Eastern Europe or the Middle East that've dragged on since King Arthur— this is all still less than two years going. Some of us are going to want to stay with the humans… and some of the humans would still let them. The rest… can distance themselves from the divide."

"There will be mixing zones, of course," says Cyprus simply. "No one's forcing the Evolved to stay away from the humans. Hell, within six months, we'll have a program in place where an Evolved can sponsor family members to live inside the green zone." And he says it all with a straight face. But that's the plan. That's what is in the works. And Cyprus regards George evenly. "We'll be doing our best to keep families together, on both sides of the Mississippi. America, however, must become the Evolved's nation first. And that is the challenge being laid before us."

George inclines his head, stepping forward once again. "That's going to be a long road— we recovered most of Aileen's project data from offsite backup, but with her gone, it's more or less stalled. Not many people can really wrap their heads around the details of Suresh's work." The father, not the son. And no word on Aileen's current circumstances, either. "Suppose we find we can't hold things together that long… what's the contingency plan?"

Cyprus regards George for a long moment. There is something in those eyes that not even Cyprus can hide, but he doesn't speak it. He's a man with many secrets, and this is just another one. He takes a deep breath, and shakes his head. "There is none," he says simply. "If we can't hold things together… then everything will fall apart. No order. Just chaos. It's possible the camps will be able to fend for themselves, but that's a toss up, honestly. If the government falls, it will be another civil war." Another revolution.

A long pause. Then: "No. No, I can't accept that. I can think of at least one other way out… We melt into the shadows. Fake deaths, change identities. Leave a clear human line of succession, so that order is maintained… then pull strings invisibly, guide that order in the direction needed." A page taken from the playbook of the Illuminati. But it works— just ask any conspiracy theorist.

And Cyprus gives George a very dubious look. It seems almost like he's expecting the man to suddenly start laughing. Only he's serious. Controlling everything from behind the scenes. He tilts his head to the side a bit, and comments "You'd need a telepath, to truly pull it off properly. Things will be tough for the Evolved regardless. And the humans will not be satisfied until they have a corpse on a rope to take vengeance upon."

George makes a sour face. The idea of being one of those corpses himself has occurred to him, yes. "Some of them— and they'll probably get a few, if it comes to that. It's not much, but it'd still be better than an outright breakdown. Only a government intending to crush the people underfoot deserves that sort of takedown."

"And didn't we?" says Cyprus boldly. It's dangerous words, even for a Presidential aide. It's downright seditious. "We did our best to protect our own, but there were so many who weren't our own. The few ruled the many. And it was not our intentions that made this world what it is, Agent Dawson. It was our actions." And justice for all. Cyprus looks down at the table in the makeshift office. "You are a good man, Agent Dawson. And you have served your country well. But neither of us are fools. And we both knew all of what we were doing. I am doing what I can to hold this country together, but surely you know how fragile that is. And when they come for us, a good man's blood sheds as easily as a bad one's." And there goes Cyprus, getting all fatalistic and ominous.

"When it comes to something as big as a country," George counters, "there are never ideal choices… people just think that because they're amateurs on the subject. Everything comes down to priorities. And if they shoot first and ask questions later, then they're no better." An increasingly battered cell phone is taken out and checked. "Speaking of holding together, I need to see if I can track down a certain propagandist. We may need to work something out with her, or risk losing Erin completely."

Nodding, Cyprus tilts his head slightly to the side. "Ms. McCarty is a danger, Agent Dawson, and I would hate to think what our enemies would do to her, or with her," he admits. "If you need a bargaining chip…" He reaches into his briefcase, and pulls out a small folio. He holds it out to George. "Tell Ms. McAlister that we have her brothers." And leave it to the government to be able to back up their threats. "They could be released tomorrow… if she chooses to cooperate. They are carriers, after all."

George takes the folio, tucking it under his arm, but shakes his head. "I don't think the implied threat is the way to go in this case. I'd suggest releasing them up front as a show of good faith— we can afford to let two go, especially given the lineage. She's an old friend of Erin's… estranged, obviously, but I think I could convince her of the mutual benefit of keeping her whole."

"We can release one," says Cyprus simply. "The younger of the two. That is a sign of good faith. Releasing both is throwing away valuable leverage, Agent Dawson." He smiles faintly, with just a hint of sanguine. "If you must, let her know you wanted to release both of them, and that I chose to only release one. If it'll make it easier for you." Good cop, bad cop, apparently.

At that, George narrows his eyes. "What would make it easier for me," he replies, heading for the door, "is knowing that the telepaths we do have are being preserved. I'm sure you'll have the same smile on your face when you get back to me on that." Back turned, he lets the door close behind him before there's time for an answer.

And with the door closed, for a moment, Cyprus lets his guard drop. The head lowers, and his hands rest against the table. He watches George go, and remains in the office in silence, the look of resignation clearer than even the hint he couldn't help but show before.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License